


Collaboration

by madwriteson



Series: Temple of the White Rat fics [2]
Category: Paladin's Strength (T. Kingfisher)
Genre: F/M, Meeting the ex, Past Istvhan/Beartongue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29758878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madwriteson/pseuds/madwriteson
Summary: Set after the end of Paladin's Strength, with Istvhan coming back to the Temple of the White Rat in Archon's Glory.
Relationships: Istvhan/Clara (Paladin's Strength)
Series: Temple of the White Rat fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187171
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Collaboration

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did read the entire book last night. No, I did not sleep, thank you very much. Yes, this does (kind of?) include spoilers for the book.

Istvhan hadn’t really considered the logistics of returning to the Temple of the White Rat in Archon’s Gory with Clara in tow, because every time he tried to think about it, his brain skittered away from the prospect, rather like a startled horse. So more galloped away from the prospect, really. He and Bishop Beartongue had parted amicably, of course, and she’d been the one to throw him off, but he was still about to bring his new wife—life partner? They hadn’t quite figured out what terms to use, given that Clara was still very much a nun—back to meet the woman he’d been fucking right before he'd met her. The very _powerful_ woman he’d been fucking.

And when they entered the courtyard of the Temple, and Beartongue was there waiting for them, he expected the worst.

But instead, she glanced briefly between him and Clara, her mouth thin—not with anger, thank the gods, but more like she were trying not to laugh—and then she met his eye and held it for a moment. And then, very deliberately, she raised her eyebrows at him, as effective an “I told you so,” as anything she could have said out loud.

Istvhan wanted to bury his suddenly burning face in his hands and swear. Or possibly just scream. Instead, he ignored that look, took Clara’s hand, and guided her over to meet the Bishop.

“Domina—er, Clara—this is Bishop Beartongue. Beartongue—Bishop—this is, uh...”

“Lay sister Clara of the order of Saint Ursa,” Clara said, putting on the nun voice and offering her hand to Bishop Beartongue.

This got him another look from Beartongue after the handshake concluded. A “I’d heard you’d seduced a nun but didn’t really believe it,” look. But all that she said out loud was “I’m happy to meet you. We’ve heard of your convent, of course, but we’ll have to sit down and have a little chat sometime about _collaboration_.”

Clara sized Beartongue up. “Collaboration.”

Beartongue smiled. “Right now, what the Rat can do for you to help your convent recover. Maybe later, what your convent can do for us.”

“Oh, Saint of Steel, you’re recruiting,” Istvhan said, giving in to the urge to bury his face in his hands. “They’re not warriors, Beartongue.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just happen to like truffles, and it’s my understanding that the convent of Saint Ursa produces some very fine ones,” Beartongue said, her eyes wide and innocent.

Clara let out a crack of laughter, her shoulders relaxing. “That, we can do.”

Beartongue turned her attention back to the other woman. “And the other thing?”

Clara looked back at Beartongue in that careful, measured way she had, when she was still trying to figure out how much she trusted someone. “We’ll discuss it. Later.”

The two of them smiled at each other—genuine, if cautious smiles—and Istvhan swallowed a groan. He’d thought of many terrible potential outcomes to this meeting, but this one he hadn’t anticipated.

They were going to be _friends_.


End file.
